


Crossing the Gulf

by A_Kristjansson



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Captain Anthony Stark, F/F, F/M, Female Loki (Marvel), M/M, Mercenary Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Tony Stark Has A Heart, by the way, i designed the world myself, lots of big sea monsters, pepper potts is a cat, peter parker is a murderous boi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25504936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kristjansson/pseuds/A_Kristjansson
Summary: Captain Anthony Stark was the most renowned pirate on all four corners of the Continent and as far as the small island of Sol. A man of loose morals and few qualms regarding torture and killing, he took any job offered to him as long as the price was right and none of his crew got hurt. His thirteen crew members were the only family he knew, his biological heritage long since forgotten after his mother died of cancer and his father offered his life to an Obsidian Shark, jumping into its maws only hours after her death and leaving Anthony to the dirty hands of pirates who cared little for his wellbeing. The man had grown up in the solitude of the open water, his nightmares flushed away with rum and bourbon until nothing was left and he could do his job in peace.He fucked his way through towns, drank his way through taverns, and ravaged the Continent of all the riches he was offered for his services, only settling on land when the harsh Winter took over the West and he retreated to the warmth of the Eastern states for safety. His life was fairly simple and clean, other than the blood trail he left behind him, until one day a young mercenary snuck onto his ship, and everything got a lot more dramatic.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Loki/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Sam Wilson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, peeps!
> 
> Coming at you with a new Starker story, inspired by this moodboard I made on Tumblr (https://crystallinecrimsonmoth.tumblr.com/post/623444986220986368/starker-pirate-au-how-did-you-get-onto-my). The story has changed a little from the blurb attached to the board but I hope y'all enjoy it regardless.
> 
> Remember to check out Tumblr@crystallinecrimsonmoth for updates on fics and various moodboards ^^

‘Put your backs into it, assholes! I’m not running an inn. Work for your money!’

Captain Anthony Stark stomped onto the deck with the thinly veiled contempt of a man who hadn’t slept in four days. He was a suitor of average height, built like Hercules with hands that could snap a neck using the same effort as it took to crack a walnut. His black hair, greying at the edges, had shifted out of its slicked-back position, touched too much by rough fingers that were over-stressed and over-tired, and the wrinkles of his forehead and eyes were scrunched in frustration.

The plan had been to leave on the fourteenth which would give them enough time to arrive by the evening of the seventeenth for the meeting with Lord Frasier. A man of noble blood, he hadn’t wanted to get caught colluding with pirates, so Anthony had agreed to meet in the dark of night. It didn’t make much difference to his plans, but in fact, made it easier for him and his crew to travel in the daylight, where nothing could catch them out under the water without warning.

But the job he was finishing in Riverton took far longer than he had expected to settle payment on, and he’d been forced to attend a party that he had no interest in just to keep the peace. Not accustomed to the rules and traditions of the small town, one of his men had taken a piss on the selkie statue in the town square, sparking controversy among their clients and forcing the middle-aged Captain to scrub his arms of the dirt that caked them and act like a model citizen all night rather than a pirate.

So now they had two days instead of three to cross the Parean Gulf, and he certainly wasn’t happy about it.

‘Cap’n, it’ll be grand! We have enough time to get there, don’t worry!’

‘I didn’t ask for reassurance, shit-stain, I asked you to put your back into loading our fucking supplies!’ Anthony snapped at the first of his crew to speak, whiskey eyes burning with anger as he thumped past them and into his quarters.

He slammed the door behind him, rubbing his forehead as he stalked over to his desk and flopped down into the chair with a sigh.

‘Meow.’ His head drooped to the side to see Pepper slinking across the surface of his table with silent paws, her legs stretching out to their fullest length to make her movements quieter.

‘You know meowing defeats the purpose of sneaking up on me, right?’ He gives the large cat a genuine smile as she headbutts his outstretched hand.

Anthony put his legs up on the desk to allow her to cross over onto his lap, watching as the long feline crept onto his shins, digging her claws in so she didn’t slip on the leather of his trousers and climbing up onto his shoulders. She settled herself like a fluffy scarf around his neck, licking her owner’s cheek.

‘You’re such a pretty kitty, aren’t you?’ The pirate hummed, scratching one of her pointed ears to make it twitch and letting her nuzzle into his scruffy neck.

Pepper had been his companion for three years now. After coming across an older Teeran Forest cat with two kittens in her mouth heading for the water, he had tried his best to find the remaining children, discovering Pepper curled up in a cardboard box with nothing but her thin newborn fur to keep her warm. The sight had made Anthony’s heart break, even more so when her big green eyes looked up at him with such curiosity, so he took her in before the adult cat could come back and scratch his eye out. She’d been his best friend ever since.

He rubbed his eyes with a sigh, yawning. He could take a nap right there in his chair if he wanted to, but he didn’t trust his team to get the Iron Arc out of the marina without ripping into the hull and sinking them halfway to their destination, so he groaned, slowly standing up so he didn’t disturb Pepper and wandering out onto the main deck.

The wind was a blistering cold gale that day, icy particles blown in from the Kemp Ocean taking Riverton to below zero temperatures as the seasons began to change into Winter. He and his crew would soon travel to Pomegra to live out the cold months in warmer weather, none of the Iron Arc company particularly wanting to lose any limbs to the frigid air that would fall upon the Kemp Ocean and Parean Gulf within the next few months.

Riverton and the rest of the Left Hook were about to become a land of ice and snow, forcing citizens into their homes until the sleet was melted by the new Spring, so Anthony wanted to get out of there as soon as possible so they could pass through the somewhat warm Parean Gulf before it fell to the Winter.

‘It takes three days to get to Serpentine, you blithering idiots! Hurry the fuck up before I throw you overboard and increase everyone else’s food rations!’ He snapped at his crew as he leaned against the handrail of the stairs, glaring at them all with a fiery temper to rival Hades.

Pepper meowed in response, on his side as always.

The Iron Arc set out from Riverton in the late afternoon, much to Anthony’s disappointment, but his anger was dissipated somewhat by the offer of bourbon from his first mate, Rhodes. After a long shouting match with Rogers, one of the few crew members he could actually tolerate, Rhodes had approached him with the bottle of alcohol, claiming it would calm his nerves. He was right, mostly.

The marina was choppy with waves and wind as he tied ropes and yelled at his crewmates, obscenities flowing from his mouth as easily as piss did from his cock when he’d had too much rum. He was still dressed in the bloody white shirt he had hidden under his coat from the Riverton officials, even as it reached the dark hours of the night, from his recent run-in with bastarding soldiers on the Fren docks before he had made it to the Selkie town for his job. He hadn’t had time to get it washed and scrubbed before meeting the fancy broads of Riverton, but none seemed too bothered as long as he slid his cock in them before he left town.

Saltwater wouldn’t do it any harm, so he’d sit on the deck later and beat the shirt to death with a rock until the stain was light pink.

Now he was watching his crew scamper about like headless chickens, organising all the alcohol and food for the journey ahead and sweating despite the frigid weather. Anthony stood quite content in a black fur-lined coat, toasty warm in his fancy layers as he sipped bourbon with Rhodes and watched Rushman’s ass jiggle

He wasn’t a misogynistic bastard like Hammer and Stane, not at all. Rushman was a valued member of his crew, as was every other crewmate that he fucked into next week, and if she ever said no, he’d listen and back the fuck off, but so far it hadn’t come to that.

The woman, one of five on his team, was quite happy to take any man’s dick if it was thick enough, but it usually ended up being Anthony’s considering the majority of men who liked it up the ass on the ship. Frustration was a common thing on the high seas, so it wasn’t at all surprising that at least one couple screwed it out each day.

As for his coat, it had been a gift for the safe return of a little bitch princess to Baleria, her father having more money than sense to save the snarky cunt, and it suited him well, matching with his usual leather trousers that acted like a second skin on his legs to fight off the cold. He was proud of the jacket - it showed off his skill in tracking people down and dragging them back to where they’d escaped from, or who they’d escaped from.

He stood on the open deck for at least twenty minutes as he drank his bourbon before Barnes was wandering over to him, a wicked look in his eyes and no knife in sight. At least he wasn’t trying to kill him for once.

‘What can I do for you, Buck?’

‘Stress relief, Cap’n.’ The younger pirate replied before he was pushing Anthony backwards into his cabin and licking into his mouth.

The Captain found himself pinned to the wall in no time, Bucky’s rough lips tracing lines down his throat and across his coarse beard. Soon he had dropped to his knees in front of the man, unbuckling his belt to get to the jewels underneath and licking his lips when he finally pulled it out.

Anthony sucked in a breath at the touch of his fingertips on his cock, his eyes rolling back into his skull when Barnes took the whole thing down his throat. The older man gripped his hair with a tight fist, rolling his hips into the other’s mouth until he was close to climaxing.

He pulled him off then, dragging the younger onto his feet by his long hair and shoving him over to the desk, bending him in half at the waist. He ran his hand down the fabric of his shirt, enjoying the feeling of the rough texture under his fingers. Barnes never wore a shirt unless it got really cold on the open deck, so it was a welcome addition to his outfit as something else that Tony could grab onto as he fucked into him.

‘You need stretched or have you been taking Rogers up the ass again?’ He hissed in his ear, easily stripping Bucky of his breeches and pulling at his hair to get an answer out of him.

Barnes moaned in response to the sharp tug on his brown waves and shook his head, wriggling his ass against Anthony’s cock to encourage him to go faster.

‘Fuck, no, Steve fucked me this morning- already loose-’ He groaned, practically screaming when the Captain took that as an open invitation and slammed into him as hard as he could, hands wrapped around his hips with a tight grasp.

Anthony just smirked, refusing to relent since he knew from previous encounters with the younger man that he always wanted it hard. He rammed into Bucky repeatedly, his mind focusing on how tight he was. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he would go back to his shared quarters with Steve and share gentle kisses and cuddling that he himself had never had with anyone.

The Captain had been a lone wolf all his life, no relationships to his name, so he’d never really kissed anyone. Not in a loving way. He was alone, wandering around the world sleeping with strangers and getting paid for bringing back escaped prisoners, and he loved it.

He wouldn’t have changed his carefree, bachelor life for anything. Then Peter Parker showed up.

~

Peter Parker, or the Black Nova of Centuri as reputation knew him, spat blood onto the dusty floor under his feet as he was punched again, glaring up at his assaulter.

‘What? Am I ruining your only weapon?’ The man who hit him asked with a greasy smirk on his face, knuckles streaked with the young man’s blood as he stared up at him.

His mask lay discarded on the basement floor, a fact that he was very much not happy about since it revealed his face to his target, and it made his brown curls stick to his face with the blood this bastard was punching out of him with his goddamn noble-blood rings. His amber eyes were solid and angry as he mouthed off to the man who had tied him to a chair, hands behind his back wrapped in twisted rope.

‘My face is just the bait, prick, I have much sharper weapons at my disposal.’ Peter hissed, the knife he kept in a holster around his wrist slipping out to saw at the binds on his wrists.

The asshole with the rings just growled, hitting him again which caused his knife to slip a little and slice into the heel of his palm, drawing a significant amount of blood to make the young mercenary hiss in pain. Edging the blade out of his hand carefully while trying to look less than suspicious, Peter cut at the ropes around his wrists again, getting them to loosen completely.

‘You little bastard, are you paying attention?’

Parker just rolled his eyes, spitting more blood onto the floor which sprayed all over his target’s feet. He met his gaze then, eyes burning with the desire to cut the noble’s throat and be done with that whole shitty night.

‘Sorry, I had something in my mouth. Ask me again.’ He retorted, baring his bloodstained teeth at the man while his wrists wiggled out of the rope securing them to the chair.

His target, the great Lord Vasir of Rilee, was a long way from home. To travel across the Continent was not an easy feat of strength unless you had the wealth of a man like Vasir, which was why Peter only took jobs as far as Syste. He didn’t think death was a worthy compromise for the wealth he would gain by taking assignments further afield - he would leave those to the Eastern sword brats he occasionally ran into on his trips to Castor.

Being recruited by Vasir’s wife had been quite a shock since Peter had never known the man was so vile, but looking up at his scarred, sweating face now, he could see the potential in the Lord to kill his own progeny. He hated men like Vasir, those who were willing to kill their own blood just to keep power in their own hands. The Lord disgusted every fibre of his being.

The next slap to his face was sharper, more distinct than the others. Peter had a suspicion that it was the Lord’s growing rage that caused the harder hit, but he stayed quiet as the man spat at him.

‘I asked you if like being such a little whore for all your targets before you kill them? Do you get off on it, Nova, huh? Spank yourself in the dark hours of the night to the thought of fucking a man just before you slit his throat, do ya?’

‘Only when they’re actually worthy of spanking for. Have you seen your own fucking face? I’d die before I reddened my ass for that nose.’ He grimaced to piss him off, picking on the obvious deformity on the Lord’s face.

Peter had never been one to criticise appearance before personality, and he never would be, because Vasir’s personality was far worse than his nose, but his nose just made him even more disgusting. It looked like it had been broken decades ago and just never healed back into the right position, forever cracked to one side and making his eye bulge out of the socket. The younger man had no idea how Lady Green had ever found the asshole attractive, but he supposed she could have just married him for the money. He wouldn’t blame her with the amount he had.

‘You’re a little prick.’

‘A little prick with a knife, your Lordship.’ Peter gave him a cheeky grin before slicing the dagger in his hand across Vasir’s beer belly, barely even flinching when blood sprayed over his face and the man stumbled backwards against the wall.

His eyes were wide as he witnessed the mercenary leap off the old, rickety chair and onto his body like a spider, the dead gaze of a man turned dark by the world staring back at him. The young man looked crazed, hair stuck to his forehead with fresh and old blood alike, with his bust lip already bruising from the Lord’s fist.

‘Nothing to say, Lord Vasir?’ Peter was talking but his voice was numb, the dagger in his hand slicing a line across his target’s throat until he got to his artery and stabbed it through his neck.

Blood spurted from the deep wound, enough to kill the Lord within minutes, but his boyish killer kept going, stabbing into his bulging eye and ripping it out of the socket. It forced a gurgled scream from Vasir’s throat, blood bubbling from his mouth as he tried to grab at Peter’s throat to choke him, failing miserably while the teen tore into him with his dagger, stabbing until he was just a hunk of ripped up flesh on the ground.

With the nobleman taken care of, Peter padded over in his blood-soaked stockings to the pile of weapons at the side of the room, pulling on his stolen jacket and boots and taking back his weapons, heading out of the basement with a sigh. There were a few men guarding the door, one fast asleep and the other barely managing to raise his gun before Peter shot him through the head with his pistol and continued to wander upstairs.

On the ground floor, there were five men. All awake, all ready for action but clearly not expecting any as all their eyes went wide when Peter walked in. A few guns were raised but the teen was already slicing through the neck of the closest man, kicking another out of the way as he tried to help his friend and shooting the third one. Within the space of about thirty seconds, Peter took down all five of them, finishing off the last with another eye-gouging and heading out of the building, looking from side to side. Hell, they hadn’t even taken him out of town to cave his head in, they just did it right in the centre.

‘Stupid bastards.’ He muttered under his breath as he observed the townsfolk that passed by.

‘Mister, are you okay?’ A voice younger than his spoke up from below him, what he presumed to be a hand tugging at his trouser leg.

Looking down, he saw two blue eyes staring back at him, belonging to a little girl with frail skin and brown hair, the culprit who had been tugging at his clothes.

Peter smiled down at her with a kind expression, hoping the injuries on his face and the blood soaking his clothes didn’t scare her off.

‘I’m just fine, sweetheart. Do you know where I could buy some clean clothes?’

The little girl nodded immediately with a smile, pointing behind Peter to where a street vendor was lounging behind his stall of clothes, munching on an apple.

‘Thanks, kid. Here!’ He flipped a piece of silver into her outstretched hands before sauntering over to the vender, pointing to the black versions of all the clothes he needed.

‘I don’t want to get blood on your fine merchandise, sir, so if you could hand me one of each I’d be much obliged.’ The teenager didn’t smile but simply stared at the man until he did so and handed the clothes over, taking the coins Peter offered him with a good-natured smile.

‘Good business, sir. Have a nice day.’

Peter simply nodded to him as he slipped his gloves on and took the clothes before wandering off, stuffing them into his satchel as he hid his bloodstained clothes under his coat and headed for the marina to wash the dried red muck off his body.

The docks were bustling when he arrived, making it easy for the mercenary to slip under the decking and scrub himself clean with the seawater in private. When all the blood was gone and he was able to shake off the excess water and get dressed, he headed back into the light of day, avoiding the eyes of most of the men he passed as he pulled his black hood over his head.

‘We’re never going to get to Serpentine in two days, he’ll kill us halfway across the Gulf.’

‘He’s not going to kill us, Barton, calm down!’

‘You act as if he’s never killed one of us before.’

‘That was three years ago, Clint, let it go.’

‘Banner was our friend-’

‘-Banner was a traitor that Stark took care of, now get on the damn boat!’

Peter peeked his head out from underneath the large hood of his coat when he heard the argument between two men up ahead of him, the name ‘Stark’ ringing in his eardrums. He’d heard stories of the pirate who captured people for riches and gold, dragging them back to places they didn’t want to be. His price was usually high, and he almost always worked for royalty, so he wasn’t all that different from the young mercenary. And he was going to Serpentine, where Peter’s next job was based…

‘Hey!’ He called out to the husky blonde man that was still standing on the marina decking, the rope of the ship in his hands.

When his head turned, Peter went the other way, hiding behind a pillar until he could sneak past the man and onto the boat. He was surprised at how easily he was able to saunter onto the boat considering how suspicious he looked in his all-black clothing, but he moved quickly to hide when one of the crew came his way, settling down in a dark corner for the time being.


	2. 2

The Iron Arc was a monster of a ship. Not quite large enough to challenge the size of an Obsidian Shark, but enormous enough to make it the biggest ship on the sea. Anthony never discovered where it came from, he’d never remembered that far back to his childhood to know where his father got it from, but he took care of it like it was a precious jewel, making sure his crew did the same and kept it running and looking smooth.

With mahogany wood and deep blue linework on the hull, it was a beautiful boat. Its figurehead of a tiger was pure silver, gracing the front of the ship and leading the crew into their adventures, while the sails above were a mix of black and ivory, the lighter fabric stained with old blood splatters in various places. 'The Iron Arc' was painted in a pale blue on both sides of the ship, standing out against the dark surface of the wood in big letters to let everyone know who was coming when it approached.

It crossed stretches of the vast ocean faster than any other ship in the world and kept its crew warm in the spacious quarters it housed underneath the deck, allowing everyone their own space and a quiet place to take out their frustrations with each other - even if the whole crew heard what was going on from above.

A day had passed on the Parean Gulf, the ship sailing smoothly through calm waters that were just beginning to grow cold. The crew mostly sat on the deck, fixing ropes every so often and making jokes with each other while the sun beat down on their backs. The air was cold, but not freezing, thankfully. The Winter hadn’t set in properly yet, much to Anthony Stark’s relief as he altered the direction of the ship just a little bit to keep up with the winds, and most crewmates were accustomed to sitting on the open deck, enjoying each other’s company.

No one fought with anyone else, as usual, too busy with keeping the ship running efficiently on the water or hiding out below deck to take out their cabin fever frustrations on each other. It wasn’t as long a trip this time, though. On an average sea-faring stretch, they spent a week and a half on the water, the storage room full of all the food and drink they needed to get through the journey.

That was because most of their jobs came from the royalty of the Continent, and many of the convicts and escaped royalty they had bounties on travelled to the other side of the globe to run away from their punishments and duties, stowing away on small fishing boats and other sailing ships that wouldn’t notice their presence at all unless they were as vigilant as Stark’s crew.

Despite the family vibe on the Iron Arc, Anthony ran a tight ship, with no room for error. Of course, no one ever died as a result of getting something wrong, but there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t eat for a few days if you disappointed him one too many times. That’s the way Anthony liked it, with everybody in their place and understanding of the seriousness of the ship’s contribution to their livelihood. It was their sole means of transport, and if it broke down, there would be consequences for the culprits that caused the damage.

On a day like this, everyone could be found lounging about with cold drinks and sharing soft kisses between the sounds of the waves washing on the hull. If the seas were quiet and empty enough, the customary sneak off to private quarters was suspended unless you started getting too loud. Lazy sex on a blanket covering the deck wasn’t uncommon, and most often it resulted in more than two people having fun, passing the time with pleasure.

That was why on this particular afternoon, Rushman could be found lying on the deck with her legs spread wide open, Laufeyson’s head of black waves buried between them. The two had been an item since two years before when Loki cut open a man’s throat to save Natasha’s life, leaving her forever in her debt until she could save Loki’s life too. The two women had skirted around the idea of pairing as a real couple but eventually did so, still leaving the sex part open to accommodate each other’s constant needs.

Rushman moaned out in ecstasy as she was licked to the point of oversensitivity, and then the crew on deck heard their Captain’s heeled boots clicking on the wood of the ship, alerting them all to his presence. Loki didn’t stop her assault on Natasha’s clitoris though, knowing their leader liked a show.

‘It’s bloody roasting in that cabin.’ Was all Anthony said as he flopped down beside Wanda, letting her run her fingers through his sweaty hair to detangle it.

‘Enjoy it while it lasts, boss, Winter will be here soon enough.’

‘Yeah, but at least we’ll be in the timid temperatures of Pomegra with sweet wine and savoury pastries by that time.’ He responded to Rhodes as the man sat down with a knife and a chunk of wood, starting to carve into it.

‘Pomegra sounds like heaven right now, it’s not as hot there.’

‘Don’t worry, once the job for that old bastard Frasier is complete, we’ll all be living it up with exotic beauties and tasty treats for a whole season!’

‘And you’ll be living it up in a prison cell if you piss on another statue! I ain’t saving your drunk ass a second time, Wilson.’ Anthony laughed, his eyes drooping shut at the relaxing feeling of Wanda’s hands in his hair.

The younger pirate rolled his eyes and stood up from where he was perched on the railings with an apple, stretching his arms out. His dark skin was glistening with sweat from the sun, the same way everyone else’s was, and he shut his eyes for a moment, basking in the hot rays that made the surface of the Parean Gulf shimmer.

Little gasps and moans still made their way around the open deck as Loki refused to relent on Rushman’s pussy, but other than that everyone was quite at peace, relaxed in the sun while the ship moved with the wind.

Only when no one expected it did a forceful bump hit the undercarriage of the ship, sending it swaying to one side and causing a few barrels by the staircase to roll to the other side of the boat. A few surprised wails left Shuri and Wanda at the sudden movement of the ship, Sam stumbling onto his ass and Anthony bolting upright to search for trouble, his eyes scanning the sea around them for enemy ships.

When nothing appeared in his line of sight, he frowned, calling out to Barton who was on lookout in the crow's nest.

‘What the fuck was that, Clint?!’

‘Fucking Barret Squid! Probably wasn’t looking where it was going!’

Anthony sighed as he stood up and dusted off his shorts, running a hand through his hair as he looked over the barrier to see the mammoth red squid continuing on its way through the Gulf.

‘Stupid fucking animals.’ He grumbled under his breath, watching it disappear onto the horizon in the opposite direction of their ship.

‘They’re actually meant to be quite intelligent based on the size of their brains.’ Shuri pointed out from her perch on the stairs, watching the squid too before going back to whatever she was drawing in her notebook.

‘Yeah, well that one had no more intelligence than the Gods gave a turkey.’

‘Some humans are dumb as rocks too. Not every member of every species is the same.’ The young girl laughed, continuing to sketch.

It took the whole crew at least five minutes to notice before Clint spoke up from the crow's nest.

‘Guys, who the fuck is that?’

All of their heads turned to where Clint was pointing from his seat, landing on a young maiden who was lying with her head beside one of the staircases, unconscious with a trickle of blood running down her forehead.

‘What the…’ Anthony was the first to approach the maiden, kneeling down to lift her head up and inspect the wound, at which point he realised that she wasn’t a maiden at all, but a young man with feminine features who had a swollen and bruised lip.

There were cuts covering his plush cheeks, recently washed of blood, and his hair was sticky with sweat. Presumably from hiding in a hot place for a whole day.

The Captain frowned, stroking his thumb over the boy’s cheek before standing up and making sure his hands were clean. He then lifted the young man up, his hands curled protectively around the edge of his thighs and waist, and carried him into his quarters, ignoring the calls of confusion from his crew.

Something about the angelic figure entranced him, his soft brown hair and pale skin messing with his head and making him act as protective as he did around Pepper. He lay the boy on his bed with gentle hands, brushing the hair from his eyes and watching him sleep for a moment, completely distracted from the confusing face that this beauty had ended up on his ship without him knowing.

He gazed at his bruised skin for a moment until he finally came back to earth, sitting up and frowning at the man. He was a stranger, not a member of his crew, and he’d managed to hide for a day behind some barrels without being noticed. It was almost entirely impossible, but this kid had managed to do it.

Anthony sat and stared at the long, dark lashes of the boy until they fluttered and brought him out of his stupor. He held his breath, not sure why he was so apprehensive about the younger waking up, and his shoulders sagged in relief when his eyes stayed shut, a simple dream making them move under the boy’s lids.

Once broken out of his haze, the man stood up on heavy feet and tried to be as quiet as he could, creeping out of his quarters and leaving the slender stranger to his sleep with Pepper out cold still on his desk. When he opened and shut the door to the open deck, knowing it would block out all sound from reaching the boy inside as it normally did for him, he whipped around to his crew, eyes blazing.

‘Who the fuck is that and how did he get on my fucking ship?!’

They all shrugged simultaneously, causing his anger to get worse and the shouting to start.

~

The Black Nova of Centuri had been in many shitty predicaments. He’d been tied upside down to a tree and beaten with a stick, he’d been five minutes away from being cooked and eaten by a group of hungry cannibals. Hell, he’d even been swung off the cliff of an ice cap as a sacrifice to an Obsidian Shark that he only barely managed to stab in the eye before it could swallow him whole.

But wrapped in a thick black coat and sweating through his stockings while nursing the bruises from the beating he had received from Lord Vasir, all while crouched in a tight space behind heavy barrels of whatever the hell was in them, was by far the worst predicament he’d ever landed himself in.

He hadn’t expected it to get quite so hot on the Iron Arc while he was hidden away. After all, it had been freezing when the ship left Riverton, but he was so wrong.

Huddled behind the barrels with his cold hand pressed up against his hot, injured cheek, Peter had watched with curiosity as Stark’s crew went about their business with no clue he was there.

They all seemed like fairly efficient crewmates. They got the sails blowing the right way, rigged up the ropes correctly, and overall managed to avoid a beating from the Captain as long as they spoke when spoken to and didn’t make too much noise. But that was only the case until they hit the outer boundary of the Riverton marina.

Once the Iron Arc was out on open water, everything on the ship became a lot more relaxed. With the winds in a calm state and the sun starting to beat down again, it was as if crossing into the Parean Gulf had transformed their surroundings into Summer, all of the clouds disappearing and leaving nothing but blue sky in their wake.

Peter observed the crew as they finished the duties that needed to be done and left the sailing of the ship to the wind, everyone seeming to have a laidback attitude about the journey. The Captain, despite all the scary stories the young mercenary had heard, was laidback too, his hands on his hips as he stared out onto the open sea with a sigh.

Even if he’d never admit it out loud, Peter thought the pirate was very, very handsome. Compared to him, his whole body was thick and muscled, every inch of the Captain looking like the human embodiment of a tiger, like the figurehead of the Iron Arc sported. The young man assumed that was why the figurehead was a tiger, but Stark could just be a fan of tigers, the same way he was clearly a fan of the colour blue, based on how the ship was painted.

His black hair, greying at the edges, which reached his shoulders… damn, that did Peter the worst. He watched the man until he had disappeared back into his quarters, wiping the sweat from his brow as he opened the doors and they finally shut behind him, blocking Peter’s view of the Captain as he started to tug his shirt over his head to reveal bare, tanned skin.

Fuck. He was supposed to be focusing on getting to Serpentine for his job, not ogling some pirate that probably didn’t even like men, never mind eighteen-year-old boys with daddy issues. Screw the man for being that attractive.

Peter let out a little huff to himself as he turned back to look at the rest of the crew, his cheeks heating up more than they already had with his bruising when he saw a woman being ravished by another’s tongue on the deck, her thighs shaking and her hands woven into the black waves of the lady who was doing the licking.

They were both conventionally pretty from what Peter could see, though the woman on top seemed to carry more of a dark vibe than the redhead she was causing to scream, but the mercenary could only go on conventional descriptions he'd heard. He’d never been a fan of women so he didn’t have much of an opinion on how pretty they were or how much he wanted to screw them. After all, the teen would rather be the one being screwed.

Nevertheless, he watched the show the two women were putting on for their other crewmates, missing the days when he could lie back in the bed of a young prince and have his body ravaged by someone with stubble to scratch at his thighs and make him whine. The more he thought about that particular prince, the harder he got in his breeches, making the whole cramped position he was in far more uncomfortable than it already was.

He leaned his head back against the railing while watching Stark’s crew, managing to get somewhat comfortable until the ship was bumped heavily by something large and the barrels around him faltered in their upright position. They rolled to the other side of the ship, leaving Peter to fall forward and hit his head hard on the staircase railing, knocking him unconscious.

When Peter awoke after the hit to his head and the slumber it caused, he bolted upright at the sight of the room he was in. Stark’s bedroom, he presumed, surrounded him, and the teen looked down to find himself sitting on the Captain’s bed, blood from the cut on his head staining the sheets with a patch of red.

It was dead silent in the room, only the ticking of a clock on the desk making any noise. From what Peter could tell from the window to his left, it was still daylight outside, the sun still beating down and making his body sweat. A glance around the rest of the room told him quite a lot, surprisingly, about the pirate, and Peter managed to stand up on shaky legs to have a closer look around.

There was a portrait of a man and woman on the wall to his right, their faces brightened with smiles as they posed for their picture to be painted.

The man looked so similar to Captain Stark that he must have been his father, with the same black hair flowing longer down his back. His eyes were blue, though, so Peter turned to look at the woman to search for the brown eyes of Anthony Stark, finding them set into her beautiful face as she stared back at the younger man. He wondered for a moment if they were still alive, but the shattered glass shards on the ledge beneath the painting told him that they probably weren’t, as he knew the shards well from the times his mother would throw bottles at the picture they had of his father up on the wall.

The people you left behind held a lot of resentment for you if you left them, and his mother resented his father until her last breath, always muttering under her breath about how he left her with a runt and didn’t leave any money for them to live on. Those were the nights that Peter snuck out of the house to see his beloved prince, but he imagined that Stark’s crew didn’t really have a place to escape his grief, and most likely took the brunt of it when he was angry enough to throw glass bottles at his parents.

Other than the portrait, there were lots of little trinkets on the mantelpiece, all seemingly from a different state of the Continent and a few from islands that he had only heard stories about. A little figurine of a Barret Squid caught his eye as he browsed the Captain’s quarters, and he picked it up to admire it.

Made with red glass to match the real colour of the sea creature, it shone under the light of the window, sparkling like a high-quality diamond as Peter gazed at it, turning the souvenir in his fingers like it would break if he squeezed too tight. When he’d finished admiring the piece, he set it down on its stand again, looking around the rest of the room for anything interesting while he waited for the Captain to come and interrogate him about why he was on the ship.

Then he heard the yelling outside the doors of his quarters.


	3. 3

The weather was still calm outside on the deck when Peter peeked out of the doors to the Captain’s bedroom, watching the man wave his arms about as he scolded his crew for allowing an intruder onto the boat. His back was tense and hunched, showing his anger to Peter who couldn’t see his face, and the crew all looked at him with a mixture of sheepishness and fear.

‘I leave you to your own devices for three hours and you let a stowaway onto my ship! We’re in the middle of the Parean Gulf, two days away from Serpentine, so what do you suggest I do with him?! Idiots!’ Stark snapped, waving his arms about some more until one of the crewmates spoke up.

Peter couldn’t see the owner of the voice until he glanced up at the crow’s nest, seeing a very unhappy looking man with dirty blonde hair looking down at them all.

‘Kill him, he’s a threat to the crew and the ship.’

Stark’s shoulders tensed further at the suggestion, and he didn’t even look up at the man as he replied.

‘We don’t kill without reason on this boat. We don’t know that he’s a threat yet.’ He replied in a surprisingly calm tone of voice, putting his hands on his hips while he looked to the rest of the crew for answers.

Then the blonde man spoke again.

‘Why not? You killed Bruce.’

The Captain’s neck rolled at that statement and he finally looked up at the man in the nest.

‘I left Banner on an island with a loaded pistol. He killed himself.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘And the only reason I haven’t thrown you overboard and let an Obsidian eat your face is that your eyesight is the best on this ship so watch your fucking mouth, Barton!’ Anthony raised his voice when the man talked back, making everyone else on the deck cower a little in fear.

Stark’s shoulders lowered when they all went quiet, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead. The entire pirate crew still hadn’t noticed Peter’s appearance at the door, too focused on trying not to shit themselves. Even the women who had been having sex last time the mercenary saw them were standing upright beside each other, listening to the Captain’s rage like everyone else.

‘Okay, everybody, just get back to work. He’s only here until we get to Serpentine, we can deal with that. If he turns out to be a threat, I’ll tie him to the tiger if I have to.’ The man told them in a much calmer voice, causing all the crew’s shoulders to collectively slump in relief, their faces much less frightened.

As everyone separated to get on with their respective jobs and relax in the sun again, Peter didn’t even think about the consequences of being at the door until the Captain was stomping over to his quarters, eyebrows furrowed with stress and an arm out to thump open the doors.

The eavesdropping teen tried to move quickly to get out of the way, backing off from the door and heading back to the bed, but then the Captain entered and he was being crowded against the wall, his back pressed completely flat against it as the man glared down at him.

‘Were you listening to that?’

‘No.’ Peter tried to reply confidently but his fear of the man betrayed him, the scent of his sweat and cologne clouding his mind.

Anthony stared at him for a moment before shaking his head, bringing his hand up to enclose the boy’s throat.

‘You were listening. Why did you lie?’

‘I didn’t lie, I wasn’t listening.’ Peter’s voice was choked now, the grip on his neck tightening as he looked up at the captain with big amber eyes, desperate to be let go.

Anthony narrowed his eyes at the teen, squeezing him tighter.

‘I don’t like liars, stowaway.’

The mercenary started struggling to breathe when Stark pressed tighter against the sides of his throat, and his brain quickly supplied the memory of being told about his neck-snapping abilities before he could let himself get too deep into a staring contest with the man. He clawed at his wrist with a small amount of fear, shaking his head as best he could.

‘I did lie, I did, I’m sorry- I was listening!’ He wailed, not enjoying how easily the large pirate was able to overpower him.

As soon as he had admitted to eavesdropping, Stark let go of his throat, cracking his knuckles as he stared down at him.

‘Okay, now that we’ve sorted that out, let’s move onto who the fuck you are and why the fuck you’re on my ship.’ He smiled but it was full of malice, not meant to put Peter at ease in the slightest but to instil fear into him so he didn’t lie again.

The teen was still struggling to get his lungs working once more, taking deep breaths of air to put oxygen back into his brain while tears streamed down his cheeks. He rubbed at his neck where it would most likely bruise in the next few hours, glaring at the Captain who kept the fake smile on his face.

‘Why the fuck would I tell you who I am?’

‘So that I know whether to throw you overboard or not. I hope you answer honestly, I don’t like killing people.’

‘Clearly no problem with choking them until they can’t breathe, though.’ Peter muttered under his breath as he stood up straight to start talking.

‘Meow.’

His eyes flickered to the desk when he heard the sound of a cat, finally noticing the large ginger feline sitting on the desk and watching them argue. Its head was tilted, making it look curious, which made Peter wonder if it could understand what they were saying or if it just wanted to freak him out. Either way, a very intelligent cat.

He moved his eyes back to Stark when the intense green gaze of the cat got to be too much for him, deciding to answer his questions despite it going against all his instincts. He supposed it was better than dying at the hands of the man.

‘My name is Peter Parker. I need to get to Serpentine and I saw your ship was unguarded so I snuck on in order to get where I needed to go.’ He admitted in a strong tone of voice, attempting to sound confident so that the pirate liked him enough to not throw him off the ship and into the freezing cold waters of the Gulf.

The Captain seemed to eye him up for a moment, his gaze trailing from the boy’s feet to his head of brown hair, before he spoke again, his eyebrows still furrowed.

‘What business do you have in Serpentine?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘If I’m going to give you a free ride on my property, I think I deserve to know why it’s necessary.’

Peter shook his head, giving him a sly smile. He was feeling a little more confident now that the man’s hands weren’t two seconds away from snapping his spine.

‘I don’t think you do. It’s my business, not yours.’

Anthony let out a snarl when the kid argued with him, cracking the knuckles on his hands again just to instil a little extra fear into him. He didn’t like that the young man was beginning to get cocky with him, and he also didn’t like that he was doing so with such a pretty face. His skin looked so pale and soft that it ground on his nerves.

He was different from the people he usually interacted with, his skin whiter and his eyes containing such a dangerous quality to them despite the innocent aura that his face gave off. The pale appearance of his skin was much like that of a snowy hare, with faint brown freckles covering his cheeks that contrasted with the dark amber of his eyes.

His body was so slender that it reminded the pirate of his feline sitting on the desk, slim enough and light enough to prowl around without being discovered. He supposed that was how Peter got onto his ship, with quick feet and a mouse-like attitude. He wasn’t exactly dressed innocently though, with tight black jeans that went down to his ankles where the lip of a pair of leather boots curled over. His shirt was black too, tight-fitting from what the Captain could see now that he’d stripped him of the coat he’d been wearing when he found him.

To top it off, the dagger and pistols attached to his belt didn’t scream angel either, the glint of a sharp blade making him wary of ever getting on the boy’s bad side if he had the knife in his hands where he could use it. He was a dangerous man wrapped up in a pretty boy’s body, that was for sure.

Observing the way Peter’s breath hitched when he stepped closer to him, Anthony couldn’t help the smirk that graced his lips, and he got even closer to make his heart beat faster. The teen looked up at him with such wide amber eyes, fear filling them despite the weapons in the younger’s possession.

‘If you promise not to hurt my men, I’ll let you stay.’ He told him a low tone, watching as his slim shoulders slumped at the statement and Peter’s hand came up to press against the man’s chest with a smile.

‘Thank you, Captain Stark.’

Anthony smirked a little more at the touch, wrapping his fingers around his thin wrist and pulling him closer to his chest.

‘No problem, Peter Parker.’

The brunette’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared up at him, looking halfway between frightened and aroused while the man tightened his grip on his arm. A red haze covered his cheeks, a small amount of blood still dripping from one of the cuts on his face, and Peter lifted his other hand up, resting it on Anthony’s chest too.

‘Do you think your crew will feel the same way about letting me stay on the boat?’

‘They’ll think whatever I want them to think.’

‘That’s a naive way of thinking about your crew, Captain.’

‘Maybe, but what’s more naive is sneaking onto the ship of the most renowned pirate in the world and thinking you wouldn’t get caught.’ Anthony smirked, letting him go when they both heard his doors open and footsteps walk in.

‘Captain, there’s an Obsidian Shark on the horizon that’s blocking our path, we need to change heading.’

‘You have my permission to do so. Get out, Loki.’ The older man hissed, making the woman huff and stomp out at his tone of voice.

‘Do all your crewmates act like children?’ Peter asked with a curious lilt, grinning when the Captain nodded and put his hand on the teen’s hair.

‘Always. Let’s introduce you to them before they start devising plans to throw you overboard.’

The two men walked out onto the open deck after that, Peter shivering under his thin black shirt but trying not to let that weakness show in front of the adult crew. All of them seemed to stare at the young man with wary and dangerous eyes, their gazes fixed on him to make sure he didn’t attack their Captain before he could defend himself.

The young mercenary had been stared at many times by many different people but this felt far more dangerous. These people felt far more dangerous than any of the adversaries he’d faced before.

Before he could say anything to any of the ominous-looking figures standing around on the deck, Stark had already put a hand on the small of his back, pushing him towards the first of thirteen crewmates that Peter could count.

It was the same man that he had yelled to the day before, his dark blonde hair distinctive among the rest of the crew. His blue eyes bored into Peter as they stared at each other.

‘Steve, this is Peter Parker.’

Steve seemed to scan his body for a moment, eyes flickering over the lean muscles and slim frame that Peter had before he stared at his eyes again, cracking the smallest smile in existence that didn’t feel fake but didn’t quite feel sincere either at the same time.

‘Well done for sneaking onto the ship. We could use someone like you on jobs, you’d make a hell of a spy.’

The teen tried not to snort at that statement, not wanting to give away any more about his identity than he already had, and simply nodded to the blonde man. He shook the hand that he held out to him before he was being shifted along to the next crew member, Anthony’s hand still securely around his waist.

‘Buck Barnes, but you can call me James. Nice hair.’ The next man had a kinder smile, brown hair longer than Peter’s falling just past his shoulders with blue eyes that were similar to Steve’s but lighter, closer to ice than the ocean.

Peter couldn’t help but think that they were pretty, like the gems that he was offered on occasion by clients and sometimes by targets when they thought it would get them out of their death sentence to buy off the assassin with jewellery and fancy gifts. It never worked of course, but the teen was sure those icy blue eyes would be enough to convince him to do something if they widened and made ‘Buck’ look like a wounded dog.

‘Nice to meet you. I like your hair too.’ He responded with a slight smile, running a hand through his curls once they’d shaken hands and trying to stop the blush that was trying to fill his face at the compliment the man had given his hair.

As the Captain moved him along the line of crewmates that were waiting to introduce themselves to Peter, his face burned bright red when they stopped in front of the red-haired woman and the lady with the dark aura that had been licking her earlier in the day before the teen smacked his head.

They both smiled at him politely, like nothing had happened, and Peter supposed nothing had happened. They probably didn’t even know he had been staring, but it didn’t reduce his embarrassment at all as he looked up at their faces. The ravenette was taller than him, which wasn’t surprising since almost everybody was taller than him, but the lady with the red hair was thankfully a few inches shorter, taking away less of his confidence as he smiled a little at her too.

‘Nice to meet you.’

Steve, Buck, Clint, Thor, Shuri, Carol, Sam, Wanda, Stephen, Harley - and now Natasha and Loki. There were a lot of names to remember, but he hoped to be rid of the crew once he got to Serpentine, so he assumed he wouldn’t have to try too hard to remember all of them.

He smiled at the last man as he was led up to him by the still firm hand on his lower back, shaking his hand when it was outstretched for him.

‘James Rhodes, my first mate.’ Anthony explained, cracking a smile as he introduced the last crew member who nodded to him while they shook hands.

Rhodes seemed more like a best friend than a crewmate, so Peter understood why the Captain was so happy to introduce him. Friends were rare as a pirate, friends were rare in the world at all - especially if you captured and killed people for a living. So the young mercenary understood why he took such pride in having not just Rhodes, but all of his crew. They all appeared to genuinely respect and like the man, a drastic difference to the number of people on the Continent that were stone-cold terrified of Stark.

Peter wondered if he’d be the former or the latter by the end of his trip with the Iron Arc crew.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ^^
> 
> Please comment if you like my stuff, I really feed off reader opinions for motivation when I'm writing :3


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